Song Of The Flies
by LanternSpirit
Summary: Fluttershy is having severe memory problems combined with psychotic symptoms.Strange things are happening around her. Who's fault is it? Will her torturous pain ever be resolved? Rated M for Intense Violence and Language.
1. Introduction

Song of the Flies

Introduction:

It's raining. Storming.

Not that I ever minded or anything.

Fluttershy trotted through the deserted halls of her once warm home. The lights, curiously, seem to flicker and shut off right as she passes them.

I knew it.

I knew there was a reason for her seemingly innocent and constantly happy demeanor.

No one could ever be that happy.

_I'm jealous._

_It's an act._

_It's unfair._

_I loathe._


	2. Chapter 1: A Change of Personality

Ch.1

Dear Future Self: Ponyville is just as happy and seemingly perfect as ever. Times like this make me wish I actually was more a social butterfly like I playoff, but society is like that. Ha-ha, deception is fun. Even fooled that little smart-ass, Twilight "sparkle", what a prissy name, perfect for that prissy little bitch. I picked up the first items for the celebration.

Celebration Items So Far:

1 package of 12 white un-aired balloons

1 Black Sharpie

1 Red Sharpie

3 rolls of streamers of assorted colors

10 boxes of wall tacks in assorted colors (100 pieces to a box)

Finished typing, I continue to just sit there staring blankly at my old type writer. I don't even know why I make these entries. I've always been against diaries, it's basically all your life laid open for all to see, but the lists seem practical, my memory can't last more than 12 hours nowadays. I look down at my hooves, laying still, limply on the keys-THUMP THUMP THUMP. I whip my head around to where I thought the general direction of the noise was but all I saw was my empty hallway. Damn, I need to pick up some candles the low light was just too creepy to take, the only light in the room was half a red pillar candle set next to the rusted type writer, my hooves began to tremble on the keys, my flank is sore from sitting down so long on the old wooden chair that came with the house when I bought it. I look up at the wall in front of me, a painting hangs perfectly symmetrical to the log desk I'm sitting at, but something seems…off. I focus on the illustration, the picture shows a simple and unskilled drawing of a red mare lying down, its mouth hangs open and its eyes seem to stare at you in shock, monotoned only by the lack of skill whoever made it has. The red ink of the mouth seems to melt from a drop of red ink that appeared to have dripped and rolled down the page. My eyes scan lower on the picture and in black scribbled ink are the words:

FLUTTERSHY

AGE 5

"Song of the flies"

Weird.

It's just an innocent drawing, made by….myself. I don't remember making such a thing but it's been here ever since I moved in, hung up by my mother probably, who helped me unpack I believe, but is now deceased, I think her ashes are in storage,

I can't remember.

THUMP THUMP THUMP

"I'm coming! Calm your tits." I holler towards the hallway. I scoot the chair back, get up and start towards the hallway, annoyed.


	3. Chapter 2: A Pleasant Surprise

Ch.2

I walk through the hall, towards the steps at the end of the hallway and begin to climb; the only thing keeping me from tripping and falling is the light cascading from the cracks in the white, wooden door at the top of the stairs. It's a warm, pleasant glow that makes the pitch black hallway only look worse. I open the door and enter my bedroom, it's a mess and a dark feeling seems to shadow it. On the right wall there's a large natural wood (like all my furniture) vanity with a mirror the size of a door connected to it. The walls are black and the room has no windows.

The bed.

The head of the bed is soaked in blood.

THUMP THUMP THUMP

My eyes trail from the blood soaked pillows and splattered sheets to the wall just above.

A rabbit hangs, like a painting.

It's stapled to the wall and it's cracked open by its ribs, its innards sag inside its bloody ribcage, and its large intestines hang out, causing its small intestines to hang like a sick form of a tangled baby's mobile.

THUMP THUMP THUMP

The rabbit's left foot twitches against the wall.

Its fur hangs in clumps.

And it's hung by its skin, stretched to keep it somewhat flat but the tension causes the nails securing the rabbit to rip holes in its sensitive, pink skin.

_What_ _a_ _waste_, I silently murmur to myself as I walk over to the abomination.

I take an end of flesh in between my teeth and pull, ripping the carcass off the wall. It tastes of iron and mildew and its texture is of soft, worn out rubber. The skin leaves pieces behind on the nails where it ripped.


	4. Intermission (1)

Intermission

After unceremoniously dumping the animal's body into the trash, Fluttershy returns to her bedroom, bringing the half candle with her. A clock on the wall in the hallway reads: 4:02 AM. The event seems to sadden her but she has come to realize that everything comes to pass. She is much more afraid of who might have done such an act, than the act itself.


	5. Chapter 3: A Rude Awakening

Ch.3

I cautiously walk back to the bed and examine it. The majority of the right side of the bed appears to be clean It's a good thing too, I don't own a washing machine and the nearest laundry mat is on the way other side of Ponyville and is probably closed at this hour. I pull back the blanket corner and slide into the soft bed. The bed seems strangely warm, lulling Fluttershy to sleep. Reflexively I turn towards the warmth and try to curl up as close as possible to it.

I open my eyes to pitch black, woken by the sound of construction outside. Turning to my bedside table I try to relight the pillar candle, successfully and turn back to where I was originally laying. My eyes widen in horror to what I see. The warmth of the previous night had seemingly came from the pool of Princess's blood I was now laying in. I cringe from the position and flinch back, falling off the bed and hitting my head on the corner of the bedside table, knocking down the bowl of potpourri and incense sticks lying upon it. I sluggishly rise back onto my hooves and rush downstairs into the bathroom.

I stare back at my reflection in the mirror, blood is smeared across my face as if it was slashed by a machete. Dried blood clumps in my hair and fur and my body looks as if blood was sponged onto my right side. Upon closer examination my cutie mark, originally 3 butterflies now has 2 full butterflies, the 3rd is halfway slashed out , causing it to now resemble more of a fly than anything else, the chunk of skin cut off.


	6. Intermission (2)

Intermission

I wake up to the electrical beeping of machines and the pinch of a needle in my arm.

I open my eyes to a bright white light pointed in my eyes.

"Hey there, you feeling alright?" comes a seemingly cheery voice out of nowhere.

I frantically scan the room, but the white light seems to engulf me.

"Careful now, calm down, im right here", the voice tries to reassure me but I still can't see the pony it came from, causing me only to feel even more frantic.

Suddenly a calmness flows over me and my veins seem to turn to ice where the needle is, spreading across my body. I gurgle from sedation.

"Shh Shh, there we go. I'm sorry, I thought you were ready, I gave you another dose of sedatives, just reeelaaaax."

And the room begins to fade with the voice.


	7. Chapter 4: A Disappointing Wake

Ch.4

I wake up to the sound of silence, a first.

I am back in my somehow clean bed, at the cottage, MY cottage.

I have no idea how I've gotten back home or if I even ever left; maybe it was just a nightmare? Or maybe just a figment of my endless imagination?

I sit up to slide out of bed but a wave of nausea rushes over me causing me to slump back sideways into my top covers. It feels as though I was hit by a steam train. Again, I try to sit up, successfully and trek down my bedrooms stairs pausing only to glance at the clock on my green-striped, wallpapered hallway. The clock says its 9:07am.

I continue on my way to the bathroom. Everything is clean as a whistle, I don't remember every having my bathroom this clean, but the sight is pleasant none the less. A weird sense of relaxation has been inside of me ever since I woke up.

_Maybe it __**was **__a dream, I think to myself._

With a smile, I peer into the crystal clean mirror. I watch the pony in the mirrors smile melt off, mimicking my horror.

_My cutie mark_.

My cutie mark has 2 butterflies and a sewn up wound in the shape of an 'X' where the first butterfly should be. I rush out of the bathroom in tears, my whines of grief chocked by my sobs of sadness.

I gallop outside, away from this evil place; I demand answers before I'd even think of returning home.


	8. Chapter 5: A Hopefull Future

Ch.5

Running through the mud out-front the quaint-in-appearance cottage, my hooves begin to slip, causing me to fall to my rump and start sliding uncontrollably down the hill my home seems to dominate. I keep sliding until my back hooves finally slam against the lip of the bridge and my balance is regained. I bolt for town central counting my steps in my head, trying to keep a steady pace and rhythm. Ponies around me stare and back away from me in fear. Others just move to stay out of my way.

Upon reaching Downtown Ponyville I signal for a cart, most carts just ignore me except one; a black painted cart with rev crushed velvet seats and a hole-filled red umbrella covering it, I jump on without second thoughts and yell to the driver my destination. The pure black stallion with violet eyes pulling the cart bucks in understanding and makes an A line for Twilight Sparkle's house.

CLICK-CLAK-CLICK-CLAK

The cart bounces back and forth from the uneven cobble stone road. All around me ponies stop and stare. I try to ignore them and brush it off.

Finally I arrive at my destination. Twilight's library-tree-house for the first time is actually a comfort to see. The outside of it is cheery and inviting. I don't dare to take my eyes off the building even when I hand the coach my payment. I'm hoping Twilight will be the solution to all my problems. I walk up to a large red double door with a picture of a lit candle on it.

_Seems friendly enough_. I try to reassure myself.

I knock on the door but there is no answer, so I just go ahead and invite myself in.

I wasn't at all ready or in a stable enough condition for what I see next.


	9. Intermission (3)

Intermission

(chapter 4 & 5 overview, preview to what's to come)

Fluttershy finally feels more emotionally stable but is still under a heavy load of stress and fear for her own safety. She still has no idea who the murderer could be. To add even more stress, while going to Twilight's house she enters without being invited in and find the worst. She will now have to resort to old-fashion methods to find hope and answers.


End file.
